Święto zmarłych Photography - M1key - Michal Huniewicz

2023 was going to be the year then.

My dad always tried to dissuade me from going - the sun setting early in October and November, and Polish roads being infamously dangerous as the entire nation takes to the roads to visit their deceased.

Our first stop was Głotowo, where androgynous angels greeted us with decidedly ambivalent expressions.
This is a relatively old village [1], in fact a fairly ancient pilgrimage site, boasting a claim to a Christian miracle that allegedly took place here. Such claims were quite common in this region (East Prussia or Warmia i Mazury), as commercial efforts were undertaken to bring pilgrims in, sometimes successful, at other times not.

I first came here in the nineties, with my dad an my uncle (who later passed away) in our Fiat 126P. I was quite convinced I witnessed a miracle here as one angel moved, and was very proud that my uncle seemed to believe me.
Just like back then, this time around we were the only visitors.

The Star of David featuring prominently on the Jesus' oppressor's chest...

By the Głotowo church. While it rained heavily on the day of my landing, and the plane slid to the very end of the runway, the weather later improved.

A grave overgrown by a plant called hosta (or funkia), fairly forgotten with no discernable name on it.

Crosses in the Głotowo Graveyard from the time when this region was part of Prussia.

Somewhat unbelievably, the town of Orneta used to have an airport, or at least a runway. Built in the 1930s by the Germans, it was later used by the People's Republic of Poland, allegedly to conduct dangerous night flights in (Polish made?) Soviet jets (SB Lim-2 based on the MiG-15UTI), among other feats of aero-extravaganza. [2]
Having an airport in Orneta is a stretch nowadays, and the concrete runway has been used for other purposes. Today, only tractors attempt to take off here, although there's some sort of warning sign that the runway may be used by emergency aircraft. I found a YouTube video of proper madlads taking off here in 2012 to fly to Jastarnia. [3]

On the subject of decayed infrastructure, this is the so called first railway bridge in Orneta (according to Google Maps anyway). The remaining bits of the railway network were sadly dismantled in the 1990s (or perhaps a little later). It must have been incredibly scenic to take a train here, through the forests, fields, across the rivers. There is an old YouTube video featuring a steam train doing its final journey in these parts. [4]

Leaving Orneta, this time around we had the time to stop by the Louisiana-like swamps (bayou). I stepped on something that cracked underfoot, and my mind helpfully suggested it was a corpse, in accordance with the occasion, but it was just a plastic bottle hidden in the grass.

The ruined Orneta viaduct. I had a strong recollection of this place from the 90s but could not remember where it was until we drove past back in 2022.

We stopped here in the 1990s, and there were people climbing the viaduct to explore it.

Sun setting over Warmia fields.

We visited Gietrzwałd, another holy site with its own miracle, this one from the 19th century. [5]

I was once brought here as a kid, and bought a bottle of holy water shaped like Mary, with unscrewable head, a detail that might have made more sense with John the Baptist, but I digress.

A pilgrim walking back from the holy water well.
This place seems to entertain more visitors that Gietrzwałd, and there was an unremarkable restaurant open here with friendly staff.

A roadside shrine stands next to the modern Way of the Cross, the latter sadly compromising the landscape with botched sculptures and their bizarre facial expressions, reminiscent of Licheń.

A wild rose in Gietrzwałd.

The weather temporarily improved into the so called golden Polish autumn.

We drove to my home village, Dobrocin.

It was getting cloudy again.

We visited the Dobrocin palace, this time mainly from the outside. Incidentally, a photo from a similar angle was taken in 1985, and is available through Bildarchiv-Ostpreussen. [8]

The building, sadly, continues to crumble.

A side entrance where a night club used to be in the 90s, a fact I keep bringing up like a broken record.

Another angle.

The garden entrance of the palace.

Nature has taken over here, and every time I visit, it's more of a young jungle.

A spiral pattern I liked (on the floor, in case you're wondering).

Palace basement I explored for the first time.

My dad walking in front of the palace. In Olsztyn, I spoke to a museum employee who mentioned concrete balls decorating the palace ground, and we found them here buried in the tallish grass.

A no trespassing sign by the train tracks. To my dismay, a lot of the village has been locked away behind various signs and fences. How dare you lock up my home like this, I shook my fist angrily.
I previously called this place a train station, incorrectly though. The actual station has been demolished.

The fields that border the village from the north, along the way to the village of Kiełkuty. These are quite ancient fields, as attested by Schroetter maps from the 18th century. [9]

It was here that the body of a murdered woman was found in the 1990s, a crime that shook the nearby villages. Then again, maybe that's an overstatement. In the recent years, someone erected this cross here. Further out, the so called Sacred Mountain (Święta Górka, Swente Gora), a local point of interest, perhaps, or a site of an alleged stronghold for which there is, however, no evidence. [10]

A tiny local reserve where tall larch trees grow, for now shielded from the omnipresent axe.

Potentially, these are inkcap mushrooms. One recalls the little book of mushrooms called Pilze Der Heimat [11].

The village of Dobrocinek, once known as Neu Bestendorf. [12]

Beech trees, one of my favourite features of the local landscape. I photographed them before a few kilometres away.

Święta Górka seen from the forest road to Dobrocinek. It's a little taller than the surrounding area. As mentioned a minute before, it was marked on old 20th century German maps of the area (1:25000, 2084 Hagenau) as Swente Gora (131.2 metres above sea level). I saw a document where it was renamed to Święta Góra [6][page 10] (curiously listed as 115 metres). Using Geoportal.pl [7], I established its height to be around 129.7 metres above sea level. Not that the elevation matters much.

In the meantime, more trees have been cut down in a place I remembered as being fairly magical...

A road leading to the viaduct. There are several of those old German railway viaducts along the way to Morąg. My dad specifically forbade me from urinating from them onto the track lest I be electrocuted, an advice I have followed ever since!

The sun was starting to set, and we made our way to the Dobrocin cemetery. Compare (for no particular reason) this photo to the one I took here in 2018.

A sign in the cemetery saying "RESERVED".

This is actually the Dury municipal cemetery of Morąg where my grandparents found their final resting place.

Two ladies returning home from the Dobrocin cemetery, the last remaining light nearly extinguished, my camera flexing its ISO muscles.

And so this was it, we took to the road 519, one we had travelled before so many times.

Thanks for checking out the photos.